


Lost and Gone Forever (Oh My Darling)

by orphan_account



Series: Love is a Role We Play [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Angst sort of, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wasn't really made for comfort. </p>
<p>Mid-series one, established Sam/Five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Gone Forever (Oh My Darling)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get up! Quick little Sam/Five ficlet. Probably mid-series one, established Sam/Five relationship.

Runner Five has too much hair, Sam decides- it would be much too easy for a zombie to grab her by the hair and drag her off.

She grumbles a bit when he tells her so, and tells him that if he’s so worried, he ought to send out a memo to Jody and Sara and the other female runners to chop their hair off too, see how they like that.

“Well, it could happen,” he says stubbornly, touching her hair with one hand. It’s dry, and clumpy in some places, but it’s still soft, and she smiles a little and leans into the touch, just a bit.

“You worry too much, Sam,” and it’s as much of a reprimand as it is a fond statement of fact, “for someone with a job like yours.”

“Well, it’s my job to worry,” he says. “Professional worrier, that’s me.”

She doesn’t laugh, and he wishes she would have- if she’s not laughing, that means she’s thinking about something else, something serious and sad, and he doesn’t know what to say. She exhales a little, and leans back, against his side, head tipping just so, and it rests on his shoulder. 

The couch is threadbare, but firm, and it squeaks a little when they lean against it.

“Sam,” she says, “it could be anything.”

Well, he has no idea what that’s supposed to mean.

“What could be anything?” he says, eloquently, and she smiles, but it’s sad, and shit. He doesn’t know how to deal with this kind of thing. 

“I could die out there,” she says, and it’s simple and obvious because well, yeah, of course she could, she could die any day, but he feels the need to protest anyway. “Nah, Five, you’re fast, you won’t-“

“But that’s my point,” she says, sounding slightly annoyed, but he doesn’t think it’s directed at him. “I could die out there, over something stupid, like a zombie grabbing my hair, or- or, a rock getting caught in my shoe, or- anything, really.”

“Well,” Sam says, and he hates conversations like these, because people like Maxine and Sara and, hell, even Janine are good at saying something encouraging and occasionally profound at times, and he’s very good at saying something stupid. “Well, I suppose. But, you know, it won’t happen.”

“It could,” she said, “and you know it, and that’s why you worry so much.”

He assumes he must make some sort of face, because she tilts her head on his shoulder to look at him, and laughs. “Come on, Sam. I’m not trying to be morbid, I’m trying to be realistic. I just wanted-“

She pulls her legs up, onto the couch and underneath her, and sits up, looking him in the eyes.

“If I do die,” she says, “over something stupid, or over anything at all, really- I just want you to remember me.”

He blinks at her, still not knowing what to say, unsure of where this is even coming from.

But then his own words come back to him, from that night that was very nearly awful- “Who’ll remember you?”

“Oh,” he says, and he’s sure he’s doing a wonderful imitation of a deer in headlights right now, “oh, shit, Five, I didn’t mean-“

She shakes her head vehemently. “I know,” she says. “I know you didn’t. But you were right, and it was- it was already happening, Sam. I’d only been gone a couple of hours, but… I mean, you were the only one who…”

Hadn’t given up on me, remains unsaid, but both of them hear it just as easily as if she had said so. He feels guilty and relieved and furious at the rest of the township, all at once. “Five, it’s not like they were- but it’s just- it seemed hopeless,” Sam says, weakly.

“No,” she says, “I mean, I know that. But it made me think, you know. There’s always going to be runners that go dark, and there’s always going to be people to replace them, and it’s not like that’s something anybody should get irritated about. But- I don’t want to be forgotten.”

His throat is thick, and God damn it, he wishes there was something he could say that would be comforting. “You wouldn’t be forgotten,” he says, his voice pitched low so it won’t crack.

But she smiles a little, and moves to lean against him again, as if she knows anyway. Her fingers toy with his and their hands slide together.

“I hope not,” she says. “I just don’t know who’s left that could remember. I mean, there’s you, but… back at Mullins, there was no one, and I don’t know if my-“

She stops, and squeezes his hand a little tighter, and it doesn’t hurt much, but it leaves an ache in its wake. “I don’t know who’s left,” she repeats, quietly.

Sam can’t speak anymore. He doesn’t trust himself to.

“It’s okay,” Runner Five says, one hand tangling into the hair at the back of his head, turning him towards her. “I guess I’m kind of a downer tonight. I’m sorry.”

He lifts his head, just a little, and she kisses him, gently, one hand at the back of his neck. He wraps one arm around her waist and pulls her closer. 

Sometimes it’s easier to forget, rather than remember something painful.

But in the case of Runner Five- in the case of the whole of Abel township, really- Sam doesn’t think he could bear to keep forgetting.


End file.
